Harry Potter 06 - Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

wondered whether McLaggen expected preferential treatment because they were both ‘old Sluggy’s’ favourites.
    Harry decided to start with a basic test, asking all applicants for the team to divide into groups of ten and fly once around the pitch. This was a good decision: the first ten was made up of first-years and it could not have been plainer that they had hardly ever flown before. Only one boy managed to remain airborne for more than a few seconds, and he was so surprised he promptly crashed into one of the goalposts.
    The second group comprised ten of the silliest girls Harry had ever encountered, who, when he blew his whistle, merely fell about giggling and clutching each other. Romilda Vane was amongst them. When he told them to leave the pitch they did so quite cheerfully and went to sit in the stands to heckle everyone else.
    The third group had a pile-up halfway around the pitch. Most of the fourth group had come without broomsticks. The fifth group were Hufflepuffs.
    ‘If there’s anyone else here who’s not from Gryffindor,’ roared Harry, who was starting to get seriously annoyed, ‘leave now, please!’
    There was a pause, then a couple of little Ravenclaws went sprinting off the pitch, snorting with laughter.
    After two hours, many complaints and several tantrums, one involving a crashed Comet Two Sixty and several broken teeth, Harry had found himself three Chasers: Katie Bell, returned to the team after an excellent trial, a new find called Demelza Robins, who was particularly good at dodging Bludgers, and Ginny Weasley, who had outflown all the competition and scored seventeen goals to boot. Pleased though he was with his choices, Harry had also shouted himself hoarse at the many complainers and was now enduring a similar battle with the rejected Beaters.
    ‘That’s my final decision and if you don’t get out of the way for the Keepers I’ll hex you,’ he bellowed.
    Neither of his chosen Beaters had the old brilliance of Fred and George, but he was still reasonably pleased with them: Jimmy Peakes, a short but broad-chested third-year who had managed to raise a lump the size of an egg on the back of Harry’s head with a ferociously hit Bludger, and Ritchie Coote, who looked weedy but aimed well. They now joined the spectators in the stands to watch the selection of their last team member.
    Harry had deliberately left the trial of the Keepers until last, hoping for an emptier stadium and less pressure on all concerned. Unfortunately, however, all the rejected players and a number of people who had come down to watch after a lengthy breakfast had joined the crowd by now, so that it was larger than ever. As each Keeper flew up to the goalhoops, the crowd roared and jeered in equal measure. Harry glanced over at Ron, who had always had a problem with nerves; Harry had hoped that winning their final match last term might have cured it, but apparently not: Ron was a delicate shade of green.
    None of the first five applicants saved more than two goals apiece. To Harry’s great disappointment, Cormac McLaggen saved four penalties out of five. On the last one, however, he shot off in completely the wrong direction; the crowd laughed and booed and McLaggen returned to the ground grinding his teeth.
    Ron looked ready to pass out as he mounted his Cleansweep Eleven.
    ‘Good luck!’ cried a voice from the stands. Harry looked around, expecting to see Hermione, but it was Lavender Brown. He would have quite liked to have hidden his face in his hands, as she did a moment later, but thought that as the Captain he ought to show slightly more grit, and so turned to watch Ron do his trial.
    Yet he need not have worried: Ron saved one, two, three, four, five penalties in a row. Delighted, and resisting joining in the cheers of the crowd with difficulty, Harry turned to McLaggen to tell him that, most unfortunately, Ron had beaten him, only to find McLaggen’s red face inches from his own. He stepped back hastily.
    ‘His sister didn’t really try,’ said McLaggen menacingly. There was a vein pulsing in his temple like the one Harry had often admired in Uncle Vernon’s. ‘She gave him an easy save.’
    ‘Rubbish,’ said Harry coldly. ‘That was the one he nearly missed.’
    McLaggen took a step nearer Harry, who stood his ground this time.
    ‘Give me another go.’
    ‘No,’ said Harry. ‘You’ve had your go. You saved four. Ron saved five. Ron’s Keeper, he won it fair and square. Get